It took Marcel a while until he had been ready to get up again. The way back to the city also took him almost twice as long as before, the pain that flared in his shoulder forcing him to take frequent breaks.

When he arrived back at the guild hall, the first thing he did was storm to the front desk to give Fredrik a stern talking to.

"Yeah they can fluctuate, especially contracts like that that hang a little before they are claimed can get a bit harder. Most monsters tend to reproduce quite rapidly. Especially goblins."

"Why didn’t you tell me that before?"

Fredrik shrugged. "I told you these missions can be dangerous. Adventuring is inherently dangerous. Especially when you're new."

"There's no way in hell that this was a grade one mission! I almost got killed there because of you!" Marcel’s voice started rising.

“Listen, I understand your anger. I really do. But it is misplaced here.” Fredrik replied, perfectly calm. "I told you that those missions tend to only be done in a party. You cant blame me just because the contract was even more dangerous than advertised."

Marcel sighed. He knew the man was right. It was just that there was this ball of anger inside of him. It had started growing when he had realized just how close his brush with death was. How he had almost stepped on the doors of death.

But he knew it wasn’t Fredrik to blame. Not just had he been warned before, he had also had enough time to reflect and had still pursued it. Despite the dangers.

“Yes. You’re right, I’m sorry.” Marcel acknowledged.

Fredrik waved him off. “All good. It is normal for adventurers to feel like that after their first hard contract. There is a certain amount of stress associated with the job.” He smiled. “I have gotten talking to’s that were way more stern and less friendly.”

“Yeah I can see where the stress would come from,” Marcel said.

“Still I would advise you to find a party,” Fredrik said. “Or to stick with the scumjobs.”

Marcel shook his head immediately. He had seen the board for scumjobs, and he wasn’t intending on doing any. Scumjobs were jobs that were not just available for the guild members, but also the public to a certain extent. That, by nature, made their contents mundane.

Most of these jobs involved taking care of some rat problems, catching a runaway dog, or other rather boring tasks. Not to mention the pay was even worse than as a stable boy.

"Well how do I do it then?"

"Normally people already have a party when they join, especially if they're invited by another guild member."

"So I should ask Marty?"

The man shook his head. "No, he already has a party. Besides, they're a grade above and probably wouldn’t work with one of the first grades."

They had explained grades before, they were pretty much like ranks of the adventurers. At the time Marcel hadn't recognized that Marty was a tier higher, and from what Fredrik had told him it was also pretty rare for a second grade adventurer to get someone without any great affiliations into the guild. Maybe there was something that Marty had seen in him.

He hadn’t seen Marty since the day before he set out on his quest though. From what Fredrik had told him the man was simply very busy, and probably out on a longer quest right now.

"We also have a board for party seeking," Fredrik suggested, interrupting his train of thought.

“Oh uhm that sounds good. Where is it?”

“Well first you need to sign out these forms of application.”

“Oh is it another sheet describing myself?”

Fredrik snorted. He slid over a small stack of documents. Then he bent under the table, and put another three pages of paper on top of the stack. “These you should also fill. And here are some more for you to fill once you officially found a party.” He slid the last stack over towards Marcel. All in all there was a heap the size of a small book in front of Marcel.

He watched it all with unbelieving eyes and almost balled his fist at frustration. Talking to Fredrik felt painfully familiar to talking with some government clerks. The fact that talking to the representative head for handing out quests in a world full of magic felt like applying for a new license back in his hometown filled Marcel with a quiet dread.

That dread quickly turned into sharp pain though when his shoulder realized that he was using the muscles of his hand.

“Ou,” he said.

“That shoulder doesn’t look good.”

“Yeah you don’t say.”

Fredrik sighed. “I’m sorry, okay? I thought you were aware of the dangers, but clearly not. I should’ve been more careful to warn you.” He slid a wooden chip over towards Marcel. “Here is a token for the healing chambers. Take it. It’s on me. They should deal with you quicker than healing potions would. At least the healing potions you would get for the same price.”

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“That is… surprisingly generous,” Marcel said. It seemed Fredrik was a good guy after all.

The healing chambers were a wide open room with bright blue colored tiles. There were a few doors leading to some chambers behind the room, and stone statues decorated the hall.

It reminded Marcel of a bathing house, although there was something distinct he couldnt put his finger on. A sort of smell in the air he couldn’t place.

It reminded him somewhat of a dentist's office, but without any over the underlying bad omens that perpetrated there.

He was greeted by an elderly man, and placed in a solitary chamber off to the main room. It was sparsely furnished and only held a single white chair. It reminded Marcel even more of a dentist's room.

The moment he sat down though, a wave of immense calm washed over him. He could feel his body relaxing and his aches soothed.

While he sat there, he also checked his status screen.

“Marcel Houst: [Warrior of Rhea Level 3]”

Str 7

Dex 5

Int 4

Wis 4

End 7

Vit 5

Per 4

Marcel had gotten six stat points from his two level ups. A vast difference to his first class. He had put two into strength, two into dexterity, and one into endurance and vitality respectively.

He felt like that was what served him the most right now.

His skills had also taken some leaps.

“Skills:”

Heightening: Level 3

Spear Proficiency: Level 4

Water Tentacle: Level 2

He leaned back into his seat, satisfied.

There were only two other members who were signed up for their party seeking board. Apparently it really was uncommon for low level adventurers to be questing solo. A fact that Marcel neither had known, nor that anybody had pointed out to him.

After leaving a message for them with Fredrik, it didn’t take long for a meeting to be set up. In the due time, Marcel had another situation to deal with.

“Please just give me until the end of the week.”

“I’m sorry but I can’t,” the old woman said. “There’s another worker that needs this place.”

Marcel knew this was coming but still it stung a little. Especially that she had found a replacement so quickly.

After he had gathered his things and made his way, Mr Nancy caught him at the door, and handed him a small box.

“This is for you. Some of the casserole I made yesterday.”

It smelled like fresh tomatoes and greasy cheese.

“Thanks,” Marcel smiled.

It turned out that the afternoons were actually more lively in the taverns. Over a hundred people were squeezed together on the wooden benches, shearing and drinking in joyfulness. The smell of ale hung in the air, almost as heavy as in the dimly lit flophouse that Marcel had first visited, but it was considerably better lit.

People were shouting at a volume that Marcel almost felt like he had stumbled upon a sports bar during the super bowl. The atmosphere was euphoric. Was it really like this every night?

It took a while to press through the people and make his way towards the arranged meeting spot with the other people looking for a party.

When he reached the table, he was surprised to see a man and a woman, both in their early twenties waiting for him. It wasn’t the fact that they were around his age that surprised him though. It was that they looked so similar that they were almost the same person.

“You’re twins?” He said as he slid down into a free space on the other side of the two.

“You’re Marcel?” The woman replied, frowning at him.

The man on the other hand gave him a warm smile. “I like your shirt man.”

“Thanks?” Marcel looked down at his plain brown shirt. It wasn’t that bad or anything, but it was definitely far from stylish. “And yes, I’m Marcel. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Will, and this is Mesmeranda, but everyone calls her Messy.”

The woman rolled their eyes and put her hands on the table, leaning forward slightly. “So…” she glanced at the sheet of paper in front of her. “Marcel, tell me why you would like to join our adventuring party.”

“You’re two people.”

“So?”

“So I’m saying you’re barely a party. A duo if anything. But the reason I want to join is the same reason you’re looking for people. Do go on quests together.”

She frowned slightly, clearly a little displeased with his frankness. Her brother was the opposite though. “He's Right Messy. We are just two people and it's getting to know him as much as it's for us. So let's be fair. okay?”

There was an evident conflict of emotions on Mesmeranda’s face, but eventually she nodded. “Alright, so what’s your role?”

“My role?”

“Yes. Melee, Support, Archer… what are your strengths.”

“Well I’m pretty good at spear proficiency.”

“Okay that’s something,” Will said. “A warrior then?”

“Well not exactly. It goes a little in this direction. I’m pretty good at spear proficiency.”

“Spear proficiency? What level is your class?”

“Five.”

“Five?” she asked exasperated.

“Yep.”

She turned towards her brother, but he waved her off.

“We all start slow on day, let him be. He obviously is looking for a party for the same reasons as us. Because he's unaligned, no?”

Marcel didn’t know how to interpret his meaningful look, so he simply nodded.

“See,” Will said. “We unaligned should stick together.”

“Fine, and you say your class is strength focused?”

Marcel nodded.

“You could do the front row role?”

He thought back to his fight with the goblins. That definitely constituted the front row. He nodded again.

“See he’s perfect,” Will smiled.

Mesmeranda rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine. Welcome to the party.”

People at the table next to them shouted. Mugs were being banged against each other. One person sang. But through all the noise, Mesmerandas smirk cut like a knife.

“Ohhh we already have a special quest lined up.”